Kalé
by Lady Reva
Summary: A padawan, mere months before her Knighting, must face a ghost from her past. Yet her mind is broken, and there is little hope for her to succeed in taming her past in time to save her friends.
1. Chapter 1: Kalé

**Kalé**

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I do not owe Star Wars. Only Kalé and Kuno are mine. (Well and any of the other minor characters I invented) But I'm not making a single credit with this. Sniff...

**Author's Note:** I wrote this some time ago. meaning it's complete even before I start to publish it on . I already published it on another site, under a different username, so don't you come telling me I'm plagiarizing. I might have to get angry with you. I hope you enjoy. =) Oh... one more thing... it's gonna be 26 very short chapters... so I'll post 2 or more per day. =)

**Chapter 1: Kalé**

Kalé sat cross legged beneath the gnarled branches of the old oak in one of the side gardens of the meditation center of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. As a young girl, she'd always thought that Master Yoda had to be a part of this particular tree – a branch which fell down, grew legs and arms, and walked away. She'd always avoided the tree, nearly always expecting some twisted wisdom to come from it to torture her in her sleep. Knowing the green troll as she did now, she knew he would be amused and in the same breath as his dry laugh, give her some of that wisdom to chew on. In a way it comforted her that he and the tree hadn't changed – it gave her tattered mind some hope for the future. It was this sense of constancy which drew her to this place now. As it was his essence, that soothing breath of warmth which was his presence in the Force, which flowed throughout this place. Here, as nowhere else in the Universe, she felt at peace and safe.

"Come to a decision, the Council has." For long moments he had stood in the arched way, watching as the padawan settled into some measure of peace. A brief instant he had considered turning back, and leaving her to her hard found peace. With a sigh he settled himself next to her on a low hanging branch.

"What will become of me now?" His green ears, like leaves a cat had played with too long, perked up, and he gently put a hand on her back, avoiding the still not healed wounds, and leaned forward as if to whisper a secret of the utmost urgency.

"Knighted, you will be, when settled your mind is." He stared at her with his huge, gold yellow eyes, as if expecting an answer of her, leaving the silence to drag on. His eyes focused on her face, seeking some of the tell tale signs of the struggle he felt within her. A sign of her strength, or maybe of her weakness, was her ability to hide it all, to smoothen her features as if they were not discussing her future, but the weather on some fine day. In her imposed self control, not a muscle twitched which she did not want to. Yoda knew that it was only show. How often had he seen that look of fear creep into her eyes and face when she had encountered a shadow too dark to penetrate fully? How often did the thought of holding a normal conversation with one of the other Jedi send her scurrying to this place, avoided by most other Jedi as they knew it was his favored meditation space. He hoped her mind would heal soon, so he could again spend long, uninterrupted hours alone here with his thoughts. Her restless mind made finding peace difficult.

"And my Master." The perky look of but moments ago disappeared from Yoda's face, and his ears drooped.

"Not your Master she is now. A new Padawan she will take."

"Because I am a failure." The moment the words left her, agony raced down her back as Master Yoda's gimmer stick connected with the swollen welts and bruises on her back. For a moment she doubled over, unable to think, move, or even breath. Part of her mind found it amazing how pain greater than the one currently felt could cover that constant throb in her mind.

"Speak of failure, no one does," Yoda stood, and began to pace, the stick waving about, as if seeking a new target to take its ire out on. " Expect to meet a Renegade Jedi, no one did, or sent more than a young master with her first padawan. Alone you were, faced with a weapon meant to cause fear in all but the most powerful of Jedi Masters. To prevail, a padawan could not be expected to."

"But the children died. I couldn't save them." Yoda saw the tears glimmering in the corner of her eyes. They made her large brown eyes unbearably brilliant in her pale face. And he knew, that those tears were not caused by his wayward gimmer stick, but by the scars and wounds littering her mind. What horrors she had suffered, none knew. Even after two months she could not speak of them. In most situations, she reacted like a wounded and beaten animal, fleeing if she could, lashing out if escape was not possible. When she first woke from the bacta treatment, her words had been gibberish, her acts unpredictable. The Healers had had their work cut out for them with her. What she couldn't understand, she attacked. What hurt her, she attacked. What came near her, she attacked. Long hours spend with the mind healers had slowly improved her. Now, she didn't lash out anymore. She hid all of her pain inside of her, creating a wall around her heart and soul few could see through. But though she still had a long way to go, and due to the unknown nature of the weapon used upon her and the fact that her wounds might never fully heal; she was beginning to be a member of the Jedi Community again. Moments like these, showed that their efforts on her behalf were not in vain. She would live and she would heal. If she was given the time she needed.

"Save them, none could have. Seen the result, I have, Kalé. Expect to stand against an army alone, you did? Believe you that one padawan, stopped him could have? Five others, we have sent against him. Five returned, all wounded, one near death. Live you do! And live you will!"

"if you say so." With frustration he watched as that glimmer of humanity he had seen in her countenance withdrew again. The emotions disappeared from her face, leaving her with a void, a vacancy, which ached to be filled. She heard the words, probably understood them, but her heart and soul refused them. In her mind, she had failed the 157 children of the Desert Tribes of Lethes. She couldn't save even one of them, too great were the forces arrayed around them.

"Move to new quarters you will. Meet Master Kuno at 08:00 tomorrow you will." Without waiting for a sign of understanding, he turned and left. Maybe she would find back that inner peace she had found for a moment, if he left her to her thoughts.

Not far from the garden, Aletheia waited for him. Nervously, she paced to and fro, crushing flowers and bushes alike in her need to move. As she saw him, she stopped, and expectant look in her eyes. He drew his eyebrows together and glowered at her. He had better things to do than sooth her rumpled ego. Straightening his back, he walked by her, ignoring her pleading gaze.

"Master Yoda. How did she take the news?" She had been too much of a coward to go explain to her former padawan that she would not be training her anymore. Yoda had softened the blow by claiming it a Council decision, but it had been Aletheia's wish to be rid of her broken minded and ill padawan.

"Well enough." She stared at his retreating back with astonishment. But Yoda had much to consider, and the feelings of a master who would abandon her padawan when said padawan had most need of her were not something he had time for. Kalé had been her first padawan, and she felt in no way responsible for her old protégé's current situation. The Council would keep a good eye upon Aletheia and her new padawan, even if Kalé's situation was out of the ordinary. Teachers who had her in classes with countless other padawans felt twinges of conscience. Not a few wondered if they had done enough to prepare her for such a situation. Master Ireine, the saber technique instructor, had sworn to spend extra hours with her once she was well enough. Masters Leroux and Perry were determined to improve her healing skills and diplomacy skills. Several others had also already offered to take the young woman under their wing as she struggled towards the Knighthood which should already be hers. Yet the Master responsible for her day in day out, felt not even a shimmer of a doubt and laid all responsibility for the events at Kalé's feet. This alone had been enough for the Council to remove her from her Master. Hopefully it had not been too late. Aletheia lengthened her strides to keep up with Yoda's short, quick ones.

"Master Yoda, I would like to go hunt down this Renegade." He stopped, and stared at her. Finding her knees unappealing, he gave her a whack, indicating she should kneel. What he saw in her face did not improve his mood. In no way did she take the Renegade's threat seriously.

"Others already do so." He again turned to leave, stopping when she began to contradicting him, to argue.

"but..."

"Time I have not for your childish demands. Think that because your padawan not defeat him could, that you could? That fail she did because a padawan she is?"

"Well... yes..." Her answer disappointed him. He had known that she felt such, but to hear that knowledge confirmed by her mouth disappointed him greatly. More and more he began to doubt the wisdom to allow her a new padawan. Others had outvoted him, but they had agreed to keep an eye on her.

"Hrumph." He left her standing where she was, wondering what kind of answer he had expected of her. She felt that in some way, he blamed her. But what for? None of this was her fault.


	2. Chapter 2: A Padawan against his Will

**Chapter 2: A Padawan against his Will**

Master Kuno stood in the front of the large panorama window in the now empty Council Chamber. Few buildings hindered his sight over Coruscant this far up from bedrock. He watched as the light of the sun slowly crept towards the close of the day for this part of the city-planet. With a sigh, he checked his chrono again. After this particular Council meeting he would rather be enjoying his last evening as a padawan-less Master. Yoda had asked him this favor, and he couldn't deny Yoda, as much as he had wished to.

"Meet you she will."

"I have a feeling you didn't give her much of a choice."

"Incapable of making choices she is at the moment. Nurturing and patience she will need." Kuno finally turned away from the window to watch as the green troll slowly made his way towards his Council seat.

"feeling our age are we?" Yoda grumbled at him at the question, before leaning back and closing his eyes for a moment.

"Information we need."

"Information which Kalé has."

"Not ready to tell she is."

"You're right. I've observed her and I've spoken to the Healers." Yoda cracked open one eye and observed the tall Jedi. Kuno smiled at him. "You didn't think I would blindly accept a mission like this?"

"See this as a mission you do?"

"Yes. A mission to help the girl heal so she can help us take out the bastard who nearly killed Marena."

"Die she might yet. Heal her we cannot." Yoda grasped his gimmer stick with both hands and settled his head on it. Of the five Masters sent to take down the Renegade, Marena had been hit worst. The others had taken only collateral hits and were all nearly recovered.

"I know. What I don't understand is how Kalé survived as well as she did. The healers found triple the concentration of the strange energy in her body as Marena has. Yet Marena lies in a coma, unresponsive to any treatment." Kuno settled in an empty councilor chair next to Yoda and contemplated the Troll. For all his 800 years of life, he still took an attack upon one of his Jedi's personally. It still weighted heavily on his mind each time one died, especially when he believed he could have done something to save them.

"What did Sepan say?"

"That she'd gone to him of her own free will. She knows how broken her mind is, and how much the events have hurt her. But she cannot speak of them. Her mind shuts down every time she tries. How easy it would be if we could just mind probe her for the information. But I know that that would shatter her irreparably." Together they stood again and turned to watch as the last rays of the day swept over the ever busy landscape. Millions of being flew, walked, and hurried through the canyons of the city. Each had a goal in mind, trying to achieve it before the day was over and it was time to sleep. Secretly both Jedi worried that the renegade Jedi they were seeking was already upon Coruscant. Until they had found out the source of his weapon's power, they were vulnerable to an attack. Only Kalé knew its secrets, and she was unable to tell them.


	3. Chapter 3: New Beginnings

**Chapter 3: New Beginnings**

"Master Kuno?" Kalé stood in the doorway of their new apartment. The strain of not running showed in the taunt lines of her facial muscles. She put every ounce of self control into her movements, as if fearing that an unplanned move might mean the end of her life. A sack with what must be her personal possessions dangled from her arm, not very large and half empty. Was this all she had to show for her twenty-one years of living? He would have to find out.

"Your room is the door on the left." He pointed towards the incongruous gray square. Looking at her meager bundle again, he avoided making any quick movements, not wanting to send her running away from him already. "Is this all you have? I can help you move the rest if you wish." But she shook her head, and, with the light of the open door behind her, it seemed he could make out a few tears glimmering in the corners of her eyes.

"Master Aletheia asked me to leave the decorations for her new padawan." She was bitter. He didn't need the Force to hear it in her voice. Not only had her master abandoned her, but she had also denied her the few things her past had to offer her. Kuno slowly approached her, noting the tensing of her muscles, and laid an arm around her shoulders, a smile of encouragement on his lips. In his heart he hoped that she would not push him away, but his rational mind told him that she would. The girl needed warmth and caring more than instructions. The revelation struck him like canyon hawk swooping upon its prey. She needed to find a place to fit in again. When he had first accepted to become her master until her knighthood, he hadn't realized that he wouldn't so much have to teach her, as he would need to make her trust again – trust herself, the Force, and others. If he could make her trust him, it would be a start. A part of his mind wondered if it would have been easier on her had Aletheia not forsaken her. But the point was moot as the past could not be undone. In all his years of work and missions for the Jedi, never yet had he to help mend a broken hearted young woman's mind. How he was to achieve this, he didn't know.

For a moment, he felt her muscles tense, and he feared she would bolt and hide herself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he then began to feel a slight, uncertain brush, no heavier than a feather's touch upon skin. A slight smile on his lips, he drew her into a warm hug, feeling the wetness of tears slowly seep into his robes. His heart ached as it felt the extent of her isolation and through the fledgling bond he saw images of sand and blood, of a light so brilliant it burned the eyes, and of a dark shape, wielding a tarnished blue blade, standing over her, taunting her with her mortality.

As quickly as the images had come, they vanished again, sucked into the secret place of Kalé's mind where she hid herself and her memories. Eventually she stepped away from him, and wiped her tears with her sleeve.

"I..." he raised a hand to stop her.

"If you apologize, I just might have to throttle you."

"Thank you." She smiled sheepishly, and not a little uncertainly as her tongue stumbled over the words.

"You're welcome." For a moment she looked away, then she seemed to gather what courage she needed to speak again.

"Master Yoda was very vague as to what would happen to me now." She looked distractedly around the barren room and soon followed Kuno's lead as he sat down.

"I think he didn't tell you more as he knew you would never agree to his mandate."

"Oh. Can I crawl into a hole now, or do I have to wait on later?" She asked with as much seriousness as if she had just told him that his robe were on fire.

"You'll have to wait. Starting tomorrow, you will have a rather rigid schedule. Though you will not be expected to do more than you are able, you will be expected to arrive punctually to all lessons and at least try to participate. If you run screaming for your room a minute after begin of the lesson, no one will punish you. If you arrive a minute late, you will be given extra lessons." A dark cloud seemed to cover her features as he finished his short speech. Before she could speak up, he went on. "With the scant spare time you will be given, you are not to hide in your room, but to go and do something with the friends who miss you and wish only to help you. But for today, your time will still be your own. Though if I might give you a suggestion?" She nodded almost imperceptibly. "Be at the north landing pad in..." He looked down at his chrono, "40 minutes." Again, she just nodded. Then stood up, and walked to her room as quickly as her unsteady legs would allow her. Under her breath, she cursed a certain green troll for being a meddling intriguer who didn't know when to leave people alone.

For long minutes she sat on her new bed, staring brokenhearted upon her small bundle. Had she been told that she would come to this – an uncertain padawan, forsaken by her master, fearful of every shadow moving around her – she would have laughed. Now, she only wanted to cry. Eventually, she unpacked her clothes, and the few things Aletheia had allowed her to take. Mostly small keepsakes from the different worlds she had been on with Aletheia as master. Suddenly she realized that she had a meeting upon the North landing pad. Why she still didn't know. But it would give her something to do.

She ran all the way. It wasn't that she was so late. It was more that she had no wish to stop and speak with people, no matter how well meant their attempts at conversation were. As she arrived upon the landing platform, a ship was just vectoring in for landing. Five minutes later, the ship's ramp slowly lowered to the ground, and Kalé felt herself swept up into a hug.

"It's good to see you here little sister." Weeks and months of self imposed solitude suddenly crashed in on her, and she wept into the shoulder of the one holding her. When had she become something to be ashamed of?


	4. Chapter 4: A Small Revenge

**Chapter 4: A Small Revenge**

Kuno sat in Aletheia's living room and waited for the young master to return to her apartment. While he waited, he had already packed together the things which Kalé had been forced to leave behind. It wasn't much: some pillows with stitcheries from Kratos, a little figurine of a goddess of Alderaan, a bright yellow quilt handmade by the weavers of Corellia, and several small water color sketches which carried Kalé's signature in the lower right hand corner. They were not drawn by a gifted hand, but with much love for little details, such as the gleam in the eyes of a friend, or the splashing drops of a waterfall creating a riot of rainbows. He smiled at the one depicting Master Yoda as a branch walking away from a tree, somehow fitting for the little troll. As if they were treasures of immeasurable value, he had packed them all into a large wooden box he had found on the bazaar of Coruscant – his welcoming gift for his new padawan.

He had fought against Yoda's request to care for the girl. He was better suited to hunting down beings such as this Renegade, but he had failed at that. In the two months of hunting, he had been unable to find the slightest trace. A younger generation now hunted him. He must be getting old. Old and beginning to lose his patience. Not that he had ever been known for his patience. His track record with padawans should have warned Yoda. Most of them were frightened of him after just a few minutes in his presence. Sometimes he thought it was because he demanded much, and expected disappointment. But maybe it was because of the large scar marring what would have been a striking face. Surprisingly enough, Kalé did not seem to be in the least impressed by him. Maybe he should have had a padawan like her, back when he chose his first, and last initiate to train. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he wondered what it was about this girl that could break through is years of carefully crafted control. Something in the back of her eyes caused him want to go out and hunt down that which had harmed her. To slay the dragons for her, so to speak. She had potential, but she had had the wrong master all along.

The door behind him opened, allowing Aletheia and a young girl to enter. The corners of the younger master's lips drew down as she spotted the reclining form, a simple wooden box besides his feet. As she watched, he turned and glared at her new padawan, sending the girl scurrying for her new room. This was not the welcome to her new home which Aletheia had wished for her new apprentice. Before she could speak up or throw him out, he spoke.

"You know why I am here?" He asked. Anger flashed in her eyes as she stalked up to him, sparing a glance for the simple box at his feet.

"To take what is mine!" To Kuno's ears she sounded like a petulant child, denied a piece of candy, not like a Master on her way to train her second Padawan. Force help him, had he been like this too? So certain that he was right, that he could not possibly do wrong? Was it the reason why he had failed his first padawan? Deep in his heart, he suspected that it was too close to the truth to muse upon it much longer. He would not fail Kalé.

"To claim what is my padawan's." He rose, and turned to face her, towering over her by nearly a head. "You think you can deny her everything from her past? The few possessions she has acquired over the years of missions with you?" He shook his head, and leaned down to pick up the box.

"You're just like the Council, blaming me for my padawan's problems." Kuno stared at her in silence for a long moment.

"None is blaming you for the situation she found herself in. How could we have known or changed it? It was meant to be a routine diplomatic mission. What we blame you for, is your reactions and actions after you returned with your broken minded padawan. Instead of being there for her, you were only waiting for her to die, or for her mind to snap irreparably. We blame you, because you weren't there for her. You should have been her safety net, instead you were the knife that slashed that net out from under her feet." Without so much as a backwards glance, he walked out, leaving Aletheia to stand in the middle of the living room, gaping at the empty doorway much like a Bothan having been told that he would never be allowed near a computer again. He made it several meters down the corridors before Aletheia finally managed to close her mouth and run after him. Her voice sounded much like an enraged Rancor whose pray escaped.

"See, you're just like them. You blame me. Me for her stupid mistakes and failures." Kuno didn't stop, nor turn to look at her. He just steadily walked on under the surprised looks of other Masters and padawans either going to, or coming from their quarters. "And you're a thief!" Only years of training and experience kept Kuno from visibly wincing at the high pitched tone of her voice. A tone he might have expected from a screeching harpy, but not a human.

Aletheia nearly had to run to keep up with Kuno, her shorter legs dashing madly after the long strides of the older Master. When finally she reached him, she grabbed his arm with such violence, that the Master nearly lost his balance as he was forced to whirl around to face her. He managed to keep the balance, but not the sleek wooden box filled with Kalé's possessions. As in slow motion, it tumbled from his grasp, hitting the ground corner first, the simple mechanical lock breaking spilling the top open. In it's mad tumble to the ground, the box came to rest at a nearby padawan's feet, the top of the box gaping open in a way very similar to the padawan's mouth. The figurine had landed onto the quilt, but one of the paintings, the one with the laughing friend with that sparkle in the eye, had become lodged underneath the chest, a long jagged tear down its middle.

Very slowly, Kuno reached out a hand to grab the one holding his arm imprisoned. Something feral in his eyes caused Aletheia to step back, or at least to attempt to do so. The vice like grip on her hand allowed her no leeway.

"You have gone too far." His face impassive again, Kuno propelled her backwards, watching with satisfaction as she landed on her backside with a satisfying thump. The padawan at whose feet the box had fallen, had carefully picked the few items together again, carefully placing the ruined portrait on top of the quilt, before closing the box. Kuno nodded his thanks, picked up the box, and walked away.


	5. Chapter 5: Friendships Forgotten

**Chapter 5: Friendships Forgotten**

Kalé didn't know how long she stood on the landing platform, her best friend holding her while she cried her heart out. For the first time in the months since her return, she felt human again, capable of more than just blaming herself for her failures. She mourned, not only the death of the children she had been unable to save, but also the death of her idealism. Before it all happened, she had believe the universe basically good, and it was the Jedi's work to make sure that the evil did not contaminate it. Now she knew that the universe was an evil place, and the Jedi could do no more than be faint stars of good in the darkness of space, little specks of hope seen from a far distance.

"Feeling better little sister?" Mace looked down at the woman he had grown up with. Since nearly the first day in the Crèche, they had always been inseparable. Then, once they had been chosen as padawans by their respective masters, they had spent every moment between missions together. It had never happened for them to be in the Temple at the same time, and not see each other for more than twelve hours at a time. Until Kalé's last mission with her master as a padawan. Or what should have been her last mission as a padawan. She was a few months his senior, and as such should have been knighted before him. As it came to pass, she was unconscious while he was being Knighted and sent off on his first missions. And for months at a time, she refused to see even him. She had locked herself into her room, and barred access to anyone. For now he was just glad that she was here and, that for just an instant, the old Kalé stood next to him.

"I have a new Master." She smiled up at him that crooked half smile she must have stolen from a Corellian, and linked her arm through his as they walked off the landing platform.

"Did the Council finally come to a decision then?" He asked her. Shaking her head, she answered.

"They tried to make is sound as if the initiative came from them, but I know Aletheia." Mace noticed the lack of title Kalé used for her former Master and the lack of emotion she narrated the events with. Had his own master abandoned him as Aletheia had, he would have been shattered, but then again, Yoda never would have turned his back on anyone. Kalé seemed to take it with a shrug. He would have to meet this new Master of hers.

"When will you be knighted?"

"I don't know. Master Yoda said that I will be, but not when. Probably when all the loose screws in my head are firmly back in place." The smile on his face slowly growing, Mace shook his head.

"You don't believe that... with the screws I mean."

"The mind healers agree with me... so why shouldn't I?" She looked up at him with a sheepish grin as they stepped into the relative warmth of the Temple. High up as the landing pads were, they were always wind swept and cold.

"Because I herewith declare that both you and they are wrong."

"And how do you know that so well?"

"Because unlike yourself I know you." Kalé stopped and looked up to his face, wondering whether to take him seriously or not. A huge grin, showing all his teeth and stretching from ear to ear made up her mind. Sometimes it was better, especially if one's sanity wasn't exactly the best, to just not take what Mace said at face value.

"Does the Philosopher or the Friend speak?" She picked up her steps again, and accepted his arm as she pulled even with him again. Soon their paths would separate for a few hours. He would be going to the Council to report on his latest mission. She would be heading to her quarters, not knowing where else to go.

"The wise guy." He answered her.

"The he wishes he were wise guy you mean."

"Details my dearest. Details." In silence they stepped into the turbolift. Somehow sad, Mace watched as Kalé stepped from the turbolift on the habitation levels. There was a new lightness to her step which he had not seen since before that mission. Was she finally healing? A slight smile on his face, he watched as she danced around a class of Crèchlings, causing them to laugh a she accidentally bumped into their master. Then the doors closed and he turned his mind to the mission he would soon be reporting about. Somewhere in the back of his mind he doubted that Master Yoda would be pleased with the results.


	6. Chapter 6: The phantom Renegade

**Author's Note**: Thanks to SomeOtherPerson for the Review.

Since it seems I forgot to specify: this is _not_ going to be a romance story between Mace and Kalé, but rather a friendship formed in countless years of knowing each other. =)

Cheers, and happy reading, next five chapters are up.

**Chapter 6: the Phantom Renegade**

Mace stepped before the Council and bowed. Master Kuno, a Jedi of almost legendary ill temper, already waited within, a scowl stretching the scar separating his face in half, making it seem larger than it was. Mace bowed to him, and wondered what the Master had to do with the mission he had just returned from.

"What news of the Renegade?" Yoda leaned forward as he spoke, staring at Mace with an intensity he had grown used to during his years as the quirky master's padawan.

"I lost his trail on Conntuum Prime. As ordered I avoided all confrontation with him, but from my observation he doesn't seem to be so dangerous." Yoda laughed. Mace was taken aback at the Master's reaction.

"Speak with Master Marena you should. Or with your friend Kalé. If speak of the events they could, speak of great harm done to them they would. More to this Renegade there is." So this was the Renegade which had harmed Kalé. He had been left with the impression that the bastard had been taken care of. Had he known this, he would not have allowed him to leave as easily as he had. Master Mephisto, an elderly Council member spoke up.

"This Renegade is in possession of a weapon capable of doing great harm to a Jedi. How Kalé survived it with no more than a few scars to show, we don't know. What we do know is that Marena, a Master by far more powerful than Kalé, currently lies in the Healing Center. We are unable to help her in anyway. That is the reason why we asked you to trail the man, not confront him. We had hoped that he might lead you to the source of his power." Mace shook his head.

"I saw nothing out of the ordinary. And as far as I could tell, he never used his Force ability. This is what made him so difficult to track. He didn't stand out in any crowd. It was as if he was trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible." Kuno nodded at Mace's words.

"Such was the impression I had as well in my own efforts to track him shortly after Kalé's return. If only we could break through Kalé's walls. I have a feeling she knows by far more than she tells us." Yoda's face scrunched together into one large mass of wrinkles as he frowned at the two men. Of all the Jedi in the Temple, those two had a knack at finding that which did not wish to be found. If even they could not track this man, how were they to fight him?

"Know this after but a few hours you do?" Yoda asked of Kuno.

"Her mind is a bunker. Even if it has cracks which gives me occasional glimpses of her emotional state, it is still nearly impenetrable. But one thing I am certain of, Kalé has some kind of an emotional bond to this man." Kuno turned to Mace before speaking further. "Did nothing in your efforts show of any link to the Jedi?" Mace shook his head.

"No. At first I thought it strange that the Council would have him tracked at all. I wasn't even sure whether he was a fallen Jedi. Nothing in his manner shows that he has even spent any amount of time here."

"Maybe he didn't." Mephisto spoke up again, somehow lost in his thoughts. "What if we have been searching for the wrong thing all along? Up to know we have all assumed that he was one of the lost Jedi. One of those whom for what ever reason has left the Order, and fallen to the Dark Side. Once we had tracked down all of those, we should have realized this: the Renegade was never one of us."

"That means we need to look in Kalé's past, not in the Order's." Mace seemed troubled by this realization of Kuno. He and Kalé had grown up together. He knew everything there was to know about her. Or did he? Did she have a secret place in her mind, which not even he knew about? He looked at Kuno, only to realize that the man was looking at him inquiringly. It seems that this Jedi had done his homework well on Kalé.

"There is nothing I am aware off, not about her past. If there is, then not even she knew it before they met. It must be within her family." Yoda nodded.

"Have one of the Archive keepers look through her family records, I will." The others nodded in agreement, and Kuno turned to leave. "Some thing more to tell you have, Knight Windu?" Mace had remained standing in his place before the Council. His eyes had grown distant as he watched the cityscape unfolding beyond the windows of the Council Chamber.

"Yes Master Yoda." For a moment Mace again fell silent. Kuno took the time to study the young Knight. The bald head gleamed in the sun filtering in through the high arched windows, and he could recognize that gleam he had seen painted in Kalé's portrait of him. "It was not that I fully lost track of him. He always made sure I had just enough to follow him by."

"Then he knew that he was being followed?" Kuno asked with a worried tone in his voice.

"Yes. But he didn't know who or how. That I made sure of. I probably wouldn't be standing here otherwise. But while I was following the trail he left for me, I was also investigating a parallel trail. Though I am not sure whether that too was planed by him or not."

"Something important you found then?" Yoda asked.

"The merry chase he led me, has only one target: Coruscant." Mephisto sprung up from his seat at the last comment and stalked over to Mace.

"I hope for your sake you are not jesting. This is not a time for a joke, Knight Windu." Mace shook his head.

"Before I knew all that I learned in the past half hour, I had thought myself that I must be dreaming. I may be wrong. But can we afford to assume that I am wrong? That he is only placing hints for me to interpret, knowing I would assume he will come to Coruscant? If I am wrong, then I worried everyone for nothing. But if I am right, then we might at least have something of a warning. Marena can't tell us anything from what I understand. And Kalé... either she can't or she won't. It's up to her new Master to figure her out." Kuno turned to him with a grim smile.

"Have you given up on her already?"

"No. But as a friend I cannot ask of her to tell me something if she does not wish it. All I can do is be there for her when she needs me." Mace looked at Kuno as the Jedi nodded in understanding.

"And as a Master, I can ask this of her, expecting you, as her friend, to catch her should she fall into the darkness that always seems to threaten her amidst the sand of some desert world." Mace nodded. So this notoriously grumpy old Jedi was Kalé's new Master. This would be interesting.


	7. Chapter 7: Nightmares

**Chapter 7: Nightmares**

The sand whirled around her. But it wasn't just sand. The little grains had a deep red tint, and glittered as if recently moistened by something. Where it touched her dune colored Jedi robe, it left little streaks of red. For a moment, she looked down at her slowly changing robe. It didn't seem to register in her mind where the color came from. Maybe it was just dust, red dust from the desert. Something which had rusted, leaving the sand near it tinted red. It wasn't until the wind abated and the sand settled around her that screams broke from her throat. Hands and heads and hair and limbs and robes all lay scattered around her as far as the eye could see. The sand greedily drank up the offered blood, and afar she saw a black clad shape, laughing. It was laughing – at her. Laughing at the folly which had made her think that she could save them.

She screamed at the figure. Telling it to leave. But then it told her to look at the limbs. To look at those whom he had slaughtered so easily. She couldn't breath anymore, and her eyes refused to close as she finally focused on the heads. Mace's was there, as well as Yoda, and Mephisto, and Kuno. Even those of the class of Crèche children she had encountered earlier were there. That life less look in their eyes was too much for her to bear. She fell to her knees and reach out for Mace's head. The blood was still fresh, still dripping from the severed arteries. With tears flowing down her cheeks, she gently closed his eyes.

Then some of the hands reached up, and tried to drag her down to the sand with them. To make her part of them. They held her so tight, she couldn't fight them, couldn't break lose. She was trapped. The heads began to speak to her. Almost mocking her with the words they spoke. The eyes on Mace's face opened again, and stared at her accusingly. Worse the laughter from the dark figure, was the condemnation she saw in his eyes. And of the cacophony of voices she heard, it was his which she heard most of all. It was him speaking to her. In horror she dropped the head, only to feel her hands trapped. Slowly, her friend's head tumbled over her lap down to the blood soaked sand, always looking at her with the look of the disappointed. She had failed him. Failed the Jedi Order. Failed them all.

"Kalé! Wake up. It's a dream. Only a dream" But it wasn't a dream. The heads were wrong. She had to leave. She had to escape. Somehow. Leave the laughing figure and broken limbs. Suddenly, one of the hands holding her down, hovered up to float above her head, and reached back to slap her. She closed her eyes, waiting out the pain. When she opened them again, she wasn't in the desert anymore. There was no blood, no spotted robe, not laughing figure. Only two concerned faces: one scared, one gleaming black.

"M... Master? M.. Mace?" Confused she looked from one to the other. She was in her bed. In her quarters. The sheets were tangled around her, hopelessly tight, trapping her legs. Mace hovered over her, his legs straddling her, his hands holding her down gently. Four slowly darkening marks showed on his face where her nails had dug into the skin, drawing blood. Master Kuno stood leaning down over her, one hand having trapped her arms above her head, the other slowly settling on her shoulder. Slowly the realization came that he had slapped her. Slapped her to wake her from her dream in which he and Mace were nothing but talking heads, dead and lifeless.

The moment Kuno let go of her arms, she threw them around his neck, and sobbed into shoulder. Mace watched her closely, seeing how her hands trembled, and how her legs curled up towards her belly as he moved aside, as if trying to protect herself from what it was which had caused her such terror in her dream. For a long moment, Kuno just held her, letting her weep all the tears she had. Mace watched, seeing how her chest heaved with the effort of breathing, how her hands clawed themselves into the fabric of Kuno's robes, how her tangled black hair, made the paleness of her face even more unbearable to see.

Quietly, Mace stood up and headed to the small kitchenette, leaving Kalé some time to gather her wits again, her Master caring for her - as it should be. He hunted through the cupboards until he found the makings of a Corellian spice tea. With routined movements, he set water to boil, measured out three spoons full of tea leaves, and waited. By the time the tea had seeped enough to be enjoyable, Kuno appeared in the small hallway. Behind him, he caught a glimpse of Kalé as she slipped into the 'fresher.

"She'll be fine." Kuno sat down onto one of the oversize pillows serving as seats, and nodded thankfully as Mace set down the tea and three cups.

"You're right. She has a warrior's soul, she'll fight until she has no breath left in her. She just has to remember that." In silence they waited while Kalé gathered her scattered wits again. They heard how she took a shower, how she happily destroyed the mirror in the 'fresher, and how, presumably, she hunted through the closets for something to bind up the cuts the mirror gave her, all the while muttering loudly enough for the two men in the living room to hear her. When she finally appeared nearly twenty minutes later, her hand was neatly bound up in gauze, and a guilty look caused her face to flush red. She wouldn't look either into the eyes. She accepted the cup Mace handed her, and wrapped both hands around it, as if needing the warmth. They left her to stare into her tea for long minutes. Finally, she spoke.

"I was back in the desert." A shudder shook her, and some of her tea spilled onto her robes. "There were bodies everywhere. But not the right ones. They weren't the bodies of those that should have been there." She fell silent again.

"If not the right one, then whose bodies were they?" Mace asked her. Several times her lips moved, but no words came. Eventually, she looked up at him, her brown eyes looking straight at Mace, but seeming not to see him.

"Everyone from the Temple. There were so many." Her voice broke, and again she cried. Mace stood up and walked the few steps to her side. He knelt before her, gently taking the cup from her hands, and then cradled her hands in his. His dark eyes were so intent, they seemed to see straight into her soul. She leaned forward and settled her forehead onto his shoulder. "He was always laughing. Because I failed." From her position with her head on his shoulder, she could feel how Mace shook his head at her.

"How can you say you failed? If all of us died at his hand, don't you think we fought with everything we had to stop him?" He could feel how every muscle in her body went taunt, as if ready to jump up and run away. But run away from what?

"You don't know. You don't know how to fight him." Kuno watched the pair. The hours he had spend familiarizing himself with Kalé and her life seem to pay of. From what he knew, no one else had been able to get as much out of her as Mace had. He was glad that she had gone to the landing platform as he had suggested. It seems that Kalé could not say no to a good mystery, even if her mind was not as it used to be. Mace let go of her hands, and slowly slipped them around her, pulling her as close as her stiff muscles would allow him.

"Then tell us how? Tell us how we can fight him." Mace's voice was no more than a whisper as he spoke, softly caressing her soul, just as his hands were caressing her back. Kuno suspected that if they had not been Jedi, forbidden those kind of attachment their closeness might imply to one unused to them, they would have been far more than brother and sister of the soul as they called each other.

"I..." Before she could say more than a word, the door to the flat opened, and an angry Aletheia stormed in. Kalé closed her mouth, and fell silent, clinging to Mace as if he were her only hold on this reality.


	8. Chapter 8: Unwanted Visitor

**Chapter 8: Unwanted Visitor**

Kuno stood up in one fluid motion and planted himself firmly between Aletheia and Kalé. Mace remained near her, holding her close, the remnants of her nightmare still far too fresh in her mind to even consider allowing her to face the enraged Jedi.

"Damn you Kuno!" She screeched like a harpy. "Because of you I'm on probation. They check everything I do with _my_ padawan. Had it not been for you I could have worked on as always." With every statement she made, she took one step forward, until she stood a mere step away from him, her finger pointing at him.

"I fear there must be a mistake. If anyone did anything to bring this down on yourself, then it was yourself." He crossed his arms, forcing her finger to withdraw or be crushed by his relentless arms. Growling, Aletheia attempted to pace past him, only to find that he had moved ever so slight to again block her path.

"I have some things to say to my padawan. Get out of my way." But Kuno shook his head.

"She isn't yours any longer. You gave up any rights to her as your padawan when you abandoned her after Lethes." She stared at him open mouthed, before sputtering with rage.

"how... how dare you! You blame me when you yourself failed your padawan." Kuno felt as if he'd been slapped. That mistake was decades ago, and he had done his best to learn from it, to make things better. Taking one long breath he steadied himself. It would not do for one such as her to make him lose his control.

"You forget yourself." He calmly said, the calm belying the storm raging beneath the surface. "Once you have learned from the mistakes you have made, then we will speak again. Not before." Kuno stood impassively between the enraged Jedi and his new ward, thinking only of sparing her more of this conversation. Meanwhile Kalé had finally pulled her wits together enough to stand up and face her former Master; Mace standing at her elbow.

"Why?" She asked very softly. For a moment confusion shone on Aletheia's face.

"Why what?" She finally spit out the words as if they were distasteful to herself.

"Why were you not there when I woke up?" Finally realization dawned on Aletheia.

"And watch how deranged and animalistic my padawan had become? And how she would blame me for her failure? No. Not for any wealth of this galaxy." Too much was too much for Kuno. With a flick of the wrist, he sent her flying from the room and smacking into the other wall with a most satisfying thud.

"Do not return here. Ever." Closing the door on the shocked woman he turned around to asses the damage done to Kalé with this thoughtless comment. But the girl had turned her back on both her new Mentor and her old friend and was slowly walking towards her room. When Mace took a step forward to follow her, she stopped and raised her hand to wave him off.

"No," she said to him, speaking very softly, "I need some time to think." Both Kuno and Mace watched as she disappeared down the short hallway and walked in through her door, firmly closing it.

"If we can't help her here, then we should at least try to help the Council find the Renegade." Kuno said with a sad tinge in his voice. He knew that he could not help her face her demons. He, as well as Mace, could only be there to listen to her, and watch over her, when she needed it, and asked for it. Sometimes they had to leave well enough alone.


	9. Chapter 9: The Data Lord

**Chapter 9: The Data Lord**

_Ich atme ein, ich atme aus, setze ein Fuss vor den andern bis ich alles das, was geschehen ist, kapier' _

_Ich atme ein, ich atme aus, nehme ein Tag nach dem andern bis ich endlich weiss, dass Du wiederkommst – zu mir._

The cloaked figure stopped to listen to the music spilling out onto the bedrock level street. The words were alien to his ear. He couldn't understand them. But he could understand the pain in them. Out of curiosity, he stepped into the interior of the bar. The back of the place could not be seen from the smoke hanging in the air. It had a sickly green color and smelled oddly sweet, almost nauseatingly so. He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, and made his way to a free booth somewhere in what probably was the back. It was one of the few booth which gave a clear sight on the singer on the small stage, not a human, but almost so. The eyes were just that much too large, and the ears just too small. The hair was an odd shade of brown, green-brown. He couldn't place the species. But the voice was hypnotizing. Each word seemed to run into the next, yet it was still clear. The voice never rushed over the sounds, each clear as an Alderaani sky after a rain shower. And it was slow, almost a lullaby.

"Ya know, ya ain't easy ta find." He looked up to see a face more scared than even his own, and smiled behind his hood.

"Had I known you were looking for me, I might have been easier to find, Akantha" Kuno turned back to the singer on the stage, and waited for Akantha Chloris to speak. The slight green hue to the man's skin made him almost blend into the smoke of the tap caf. If he weren't wearing a nauseating orange and pink lined cloak. Kuno had never understood how he managed to survive this close to bedrock wearing clothes such as these. But somehow Akantha managed to live, regardless of which powerful underworld boss he angered. They all forgave him. Maybe because his knack at finding out things was better than any annoyance he caused.

"Ya don't look all ta interested in what I cald tell ya." Akantha leaned over the table, his cloak dragging through the layer of slime, dust, and spilled drink coating every surface not regularly cleaned by a customer's rear-end. He didn't seem to particularly mind.

"Believe what you will. But I would be interested in knowing what language this is." Kuno nodded to the being on the stage, seeming to sing its soul out of its heart.

"Ah! Ya're dying ta know what I can tell ya of zis Renegade your Order be hunting down." Suddenly Kuno's attention was fully centered on Akantha. The man never ceased to amaze him. Always it seemed, that he knew before Kuno himself knew what information it is that he might need.

"And how much would it cost me?" Strangely enough, Akantha just shook his head. Kuno was used to having to pay for the slightest of information, only in very rare moments did Akantha reveal something for free. It was, after all, how he made his living.

"It be in me own interest for yar Order ta catch him." If Kuno hadn't known better, he would have been certain that Akantha was afraid. His gaze continually wandered from the back door to the front door, almost as if he were afraid of someone. Kuno let his cloak fall open, leaving his lightsaber open for quick access. Akantha saw the motion, and nodded once.

"Ya see," he began, "He been asking around. 'Bout ze Order. Rather, 'bout ze Temple. Seems he been wanting ta visit someone zere." A cold feeling gripped Kuno as he heard this. Could the someone be his new padawan? Did she know too much to be allowed to live?

"What did you tell him?" Kuno asked.

"That zis information ain't for sale. He dinae like it. He been asking ozers. But we ain't dumb enough ta help him break into za Temple." Akantha hurriedly gathered his cloak tighter around himself, and began to rise. Kuno held out a hand, asking him to wait.

"There's more?" He asked.

"Ya." Quickly, Akantha scanned the room once more. "zree of me kind been found dead. Na weapon I'd ever heard or seen of." Kuno looked surprised. Akantha's kind were notoriously hard to kill, especially those of them which specialized in the buying and selling on information. They had a reputation of being neutral to a fault. They would sell as much to a Sith Lord as to the best of Jedi. That Akantha refused to help him, meant that the Renegade had killed one of the Data Lords before reaching Akantha, the best of his kind. Kuno stood and nodded for Akantha to follow him.

"I believe I owe you a visit with one of the Archive Keepers, for the information of our last meeting." Kuno said to the Data Lord. With a quick, almost imperceptible nod, he followed the Jedi out of the tap caf and onto the streets of bedrock level Coruscant.


	10. Chapter 10: The Hunters and the Hunted

**Chapter 10: The Hunters and the Hunted**

Kuno and Akantha left the bar and headed down the street, avoiding the downpours of the refuse flues from higher levels where they could. Akantha was tense. His head never stopped moving, as if expecting an ambush at any moment. The shadows surrounding the awnings of side streets, and piles of discarded boxes gave more than enough places for a small army to hide in. Kuno sensed nothing, but kept his hand on the handle of his lightsaber.

At a particular rough spot in the pavement, Akantha's foot caught, sending him down in a flurry of cape and arms. Kuno stared amused at the heap of pink and orange, then reached down to help the man back onto his feet, only to be pulled down as the cape unbalanced Akantha after it had gotten caught on a piece of twisted metal. Merriment shining in his eyes, Kuno quickly jumped to his feet again, and again helped Akantha up, this time without mishap.

"Still clumsy?" Akantha only grumbled, and walked away. His cape had ripped neatly in half during the attempt to stand, and the pink and orange colors were tarnished with hues of brown and green. The smell would probably be nauseating, but here in this place, it was not distinguishable from the puddles of what had once been water surrounding them. For a moment, Kuno watched as the data lord attempted to walk away with as much dignity as his crumpled suit and ripped cape would allow. Concentrating to stop a smile from blooming on his face, he followed him, careful to avoid coming into contact with more of the unpleasant looking and smelling brew. His Jedi robes had suffered enough for one day, he thought. If only the day had thought otherwise.

At the crossing of two main thoroughfares, a small transport waited tucked between the sides of two buildings. A dozen armed men stood scattered around, blocking the way for the two men. All had weapons prominently displayed, and all wore armor the color of the ground around them. All in all they resembled living tree stumps more than men paid to wreck mayhem. The leader, Manfred Nerva, a man in his later thirties with a frown on his pale face, stepped away from the wall he was standing against.

"Now. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Up to you." His glare moved from Akantha to Kuno, not really expecting two men to put up resistance against superior numbers. His men, handpicked by himself to do his master's bidding, were the best money could buy. Kuno took a half step forward and twisted slightly to better face the man, hiding his saber from view by the same opportunity.

"You would be?" Kuno asked. Manfred shook his head at the obvious stupidity of the question, but decided to humor the eccentrically dressed man.

"Manfred Nerva. Mercenary of profession, before you ask." He answered. Kuno nodded as if this was just the information he had been looking for.

"And might I inquire why we should go with you, Manfred?" Kuno asked of him.

"My master wishes to speak with you." He said.

"And who would your master be?"

"He calls himself Renegade." Manfred answered. Akantha opened his mouth to speak, but Kuno stopped him by placing a hand onto his shoulder, smiling pleasantly at the leader of the troop.

"We can spare a few moments for our old friend. Can't we?" Akantha just nodded dumbly at Kuno's words. Manfred took a half step backwards and drew his brows together. Then, he shrugged, and decided to take what life was giving him. With a polite nod, he indicated the waiting transport.

"The Master didn't expect you to come quite so calmly." He said, while preceding the two to the transport. His men were already assembled before the hatch. Three had gone inside. None were expecting trouble.

"Did he? He must have confused me with our common friend - Kalé." Manfred looked puzzled at Kuno's words.

"He done that before. Ya shoulna trust ta friend Renegade." Akantha nodded kindly at the man, watching with a smile as the confusion in the man's eyes grew. Kuno again put his hand on Akantha's shoulder, this time causing him to whirl around, and point to a small side passage. Akantha didn't hesitate, not waiting to see what would happen to either Kuno or the men who had been waiting for them. He broke away from Kuno and Manfred in a dead run, hoping to reach the cover of the passage before the blasters begin to fire.

Kuno was left standing facing twelve men, most too far away from him to be of any danger. With a happy smile, he looked at the leader of the troop, then slowly pulled out his lightsaber, and activated it. The blue blade sprung to life between him and the twelve men, shielding him more effectively than any energy shield in the universe. Manfred, a scant two meters away from him, glared at him.

"The master didn't mention that you'd be a Jedi. No matter. It's still one against twelve." Kuno nodded, the pleasant smile still on his face. He waited until Akantha had reached the safety of the side passage. Then he vaulted up, dropping down in front of Manfred, placed one good snap kick in the man's face, before he too turned and ran away.

A moving target moving away from a source of blaster fire in a straight line, was a dead target. The red bolts began to pepper the ground where Kuno had been standing the moment the leader of the troop had fallen to the ground in an elegant heap of armor. In a zig-zag, jumping from ground, to wall, to half recycled heap, to broken down speeder, Kuno headed towards the small side passage where Akantha had disappeared into. The occasional bolt, he deflected with his saber, but mostly, he just avoided them by jumping away from them. The fools hadn't bothered to move forward as he was moving away, and after roughly ten minutes after Akantha had began running, Kuno landing on his feet, back facing to his enemies, in the side passage. He had no worries that he would somewhere catch up with the data lord. For all of their knowledge, they were almost pathetically out of shape. A duracrete slug could out distance one of them in a fair race.

The men had finally realized that their prey would escape them if they did not begin running. Leaving their fallen leader in the heap in which he had landed, the eleven ran full steam into the side passage, blasting away at anything which moved, uncaring if it were alive and sentient and their prey.

Kuno soon caught up to Akantha, grabbed his arm, and caused his legs to move faster than they had before. Either that, or be dragged along on the floor and what ever it was covering it.

"Hey... me suit..." The bolts echoing towards them snapped his mouth shut in mid complain. Only to be opened again moments later as the data lord began gasping and wheezing from lack of oxygen. Three hours later, or Akantha thought it was three hours, Kuno pulled him onto a landing pad, heading towards the two men and their speeder bikes on the other sides. Slowed down as Kuno was by the data lord, their pursuers had managed to catch up, and were placing bolts mere meters away from their moving bodies. The two men on the other side of the platform had the intelligence to throw themselves behind a waste collector; one was a bit slower as he first moved his bike to the scant shelter offered by the other bike. Kuno smiled grimly. It wouldn't matter soon.

"Akantha!" He turned to the data lord, still running towards the bikes. "Can you ride one of these?"

"I... be...lieve... that..."

"Yes or no?" He interrupted the wheezing data lord, having no time to spare for his drawn out answer. He could ask for the particularities some other time.

"Ye...Yes." Kuno neatly flung Akantha onto the first bike before he could fully answer, and jumped onto the second on. He didn't wait to see if the data lord was following. He geared his bike into full power and vectored up into the flow of traffic. Minutes later, Akantha drew even with him. Silently they flew back to the Jedi Temple. Akantha catching his breath. Kuno brooding on their opponent.


	11. Chapter 11: Council meeting

**Chapter 11: Council Meeting**

"He's here." Kuno's sudden appearance in the Council Chamber with Akantha in tow, and his matter of fact statement seemed to startle the twelve Jedi Masters into silence.

"Certain you are?" Yoda asked.

"He killed zree of me friends, here, on Coruscant." Akantha answered for him. The ripped and soiled bright colors of his cloak seeming to ooze onto the polished floor of the Council Chamber.

"Akantha is a data lord. The Renegade has been inquiring into means of entry into the Temple." Kuno elaborated.

"This is rather troubling. It seems that Knight Windu has been correct and his ultimate goal is Coruscant. But what does he want in the Temple?" Mephisto asked.

"Kalé perhaps?" Another Councilor supplied.

"But why? She seems to be immune to his weapon, and at the same time incapable of explaining why." Kuno said.

"Answers, Ismene Taliba might have. Researching Kalé, she has." As if on cue to Yoda's words, the doors opened to admit a rather slight looking Bothan woman, with silver-white fur covering her face, and brilliant blue eyes. She bowed to the Councilors, raised an eyebrow at Kuno, and ignored Akantha.

"I might have found something of interest." She began. Yoda nodded for her to proceed. "Three centuries ago, a small group of Jedi seceded from the Order and settled in the desert wastes of Lethes. This group of solely human males was known as the Perdita Jedi. We have always assumed that they died out without heirs as no trace has been found of them since. Further research shows that secluded Desert Tribes populate the area. It could be that they integrated themselves into the social structure and became part of these tribes."

"Then our Renegade is a member of these Perdita Jedi?" Mephisto asked.

"I believe so," Ismene answered. "The profile fits."

"This still does not tell us why he would be interested in Kalé." Kuno said.

"I have two theories. The first: she just happened to be there for him to see. Being the first female Jedi he encountered, he wished to claim her as his mate." Ismene shrugged at her own theory, as if she herself found it as implausible as the others seemed to.

"The second theory?"

"Kalé herself is from the Desert World." Mephisto immediately interrupted her.

"That cannot be. She is an orphan from the lower levels of Coruscant. Her mother was a bedrock level beggar." But Ismene shook her head.

"I don't believe that her mother was quite what she claimed to be. Not if I can believe the pictures of her I have seen." She pulled out a small holo device and projected a wavering picture of a woman holding an infant child in her arms. A cloak with hood hid most of her features. Ismene pointed to the left arm where a silver gleam was visible, and to the part of the forehead which the security cam revealed. "The bracelet is encrusted into the skin, the visible part denotes her as a clan mother from one of the Lethian desert tribes. The part of the tattoo on her forehead symbolize her skill as a sand witch. Kalé, as her mother, comes from Lethes."

"Then Kalé is also descendant from the Perditas?"

"Such is my believe."

"Explain the Renegade's interest in her, this would. But not her immunity to the weapon." Yoda leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. Weariness seemed to pull at his face, and his ears drooped for a moment.

"I've heard of ze weapon." Akantha suddenly spoke up. All present turned to stare at him. Nearly absentmindedly he began to pace back and forth near the back of the Chamber where he'd been standing, seeming oblivious to the aggravated looks from Ismene.

"Where?" Kuno asked, knowing full well that the Data lord would tell when he was ready.

"A bit of a legend, me picked up in a spaceport near Omega Prime. An old tale of sith ta scare children wiz." He shrugged as if this were all he could remember. Kuno knew the Data lord too well to be fooled by him.

"Maybe you could assist Keeper Taliba with a search for some more precise documents. Maybe this would jog your memory." A rather displeased frown pulled down the corners of Ismene's lips, but she nodded and indicated the data lord should follow her.

"We'll stop on the way to get you some fresh clothing which does not offend my nose." She sniffed, and turned on her heals. Akantha followed after her with a wide grin on his face. Access to the Jedi Temple's archive's was every Data Lord's childhood dream, and it was about to be fulfilled for him. Kuno walked to the side of the chamber and stared pensively out of the windows.

"An old Sith weapon?" He asked the silent room.

"No Sith has lived for over a thousand years. It must be an isolated artifact he found." Mephisto spoke also as if to himself.

"Troubling, this is, and dangerous to our Order." Yoda spoke, before he could say more, a comlink built into the armrest of his chair demanded his attention. "Yes?" He asked, only to find Mace's voice floating up at him.

"Sensors show that one of the lower levels maintenance access shafts has been broken open. I'm on my way down to check it." Several councilors frowned at the invisible Mace.

"Careful you must be, the Renegade, this could be."

"Such is my fear." The connection cut. Kuno turned on his heals, and headed out of the Chamber at a run. If it was the Renegade, then Mace would need help.


	12. Chapter 12: The Message

**Chapter 12: The Message**

The room was dark, even the ever so slight light from the com console blanked out by a cloak. The sound of ragged breathing filled the room. As if a being were being suffocated by a crushing stone fallen onto it. Its last moments of life spent in a near unbearable darkness. The sudden, piercing whistle from the com station woke Kalé up from her dreams. Disoriented, she stumbled, her covers still wrapped around her legs, towards the sound, blinking as her grasping fingers flung the cloak from the com system, allowing some meager light into the room. With fumbling fingers, she managed to somehow turn the system on, playing the recorded message left for her.

"My dearest Kalé, if you wish your Jedi friends to survive this day, come to me before the sun sets." The messaged finished by adding a precise location, somewhere near bedrock level in the alien sectors. A slight twist of her guts brought Kalé back to her room. A slight sheen of sweat on her face, she hurriedly dressed and left the room.

Her steps soon led her to the meeting place: a dark alley which had not seen sunlight in more ages then a single lifetime could remember. Huddling underneath her brown Jedi robes, Kalé looked around, trying to discern a figure in the darkness surrounding her. Her Jedi senses told her that several life forms stood at the back of the alley, waiting for something, or someone. But he was not there. Had he lied?

A whisp of terror crawled up her spin as the figures from the back of the alley began walking towards her. They were focused on her, why? They weren't him? The leader of the small group pulled the hood from his cloak back, revealing a scared face with a bruise rather prominent on the left cheek. He bowed, and spoke.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Manfred Nerva. Me master wishes for us to escort you to his current residence." Kalé looked at the small groups. Each and everyone of them had blasters out, pointed at her. She had never been all that good in the arts of combat, her specialty was negotiation with words. Carefully moving her hands out of the confines of her sleeve, she let them drop to her side, empty. Faced with ten, armed to the teeth, henchmen, it was not the time to fight. Manfred nodded. "wise of ye girly. We wouldn't want to deal with you as we have with the other Jedi."

The terror turned to fear as she worried for her master and Mace. Was he speaking of one of them. Had he harmed them? Desperately, she tried to access the fledgling bond between her and Kuno. The dread settled like a cold fish in her stomach. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. The warmth of his aura was out of her reach.

Kalé screamed in her mind. Hoping that some Jedi would hear her. But for now, all she could do, was walk ahead of the men, hoping that none of them would be all too trigger happy.


	13. Chapter 13: A Showdown

**Chapter 13: A Showdown**

Mace slowly walked through the meditation gardens, heading for the age old tree Master Yoda so enjoyed sitting underneath for his meditations. The place was imbued with his strong, calm aura, seeming to calm even the most erratic of thoughts. But it also contained the trace of Kalé's more unstable aura. He knew that she often came here, hoping for some of the peace Master Yoda seemed to carry around with him so naturally, as if it were just like air which you could breath in. She had to be once again sitting beneath the large branches, letting her thoughts carry her where they would, how else to explain the strong sensation of her he received when focusing on the tree? More worrisome were the tell tale signs from the Renegade. He should never have made it this far into the inner sanctum of the Jedi.

"foolish whelp. So easily mislead" A figure stood beneath the branches -- a dark cloak with a hood drawn up over his head hiding even the race of the man. Mace raised an eyebrow, and pulled his saber from his belt, holding it loosely in his hand.

"foolish? I do not recall taking your hints and traces all too seriously." He walked leisurely towards the tree.

"foolish. Because you choose to face me." Hands pulled out of large sleeves, holding what seemed to be a lightsaber. The handle carved and worn and carved again by a new generation. The old sigils lost to the new ones. He activated it, revealing a slight blue blade, like a light saber, but resembling the pictures of age old daikatanas Mace had once seen while in the Archive.

"Intriguing workmanship." He activated his own saber, the purple glow far more brilliant than the faint one from his opponents'.

"Far more then you can imagine, whelp." Mace leaped forward, intending to slash at the Renegade's unprotected left side. But he just twisted out of the way, bringing his own saber down on Mace. The dark skinned Jedi brought his blade up to deflect the blow, but it soon clattered to the ground, extinguished. Agony cut through his arm, causing him to fall to his knees. The Renegade's blade had gracefully passed through Mace's own lightsaber, as if the glowing blade had not been there.

"How proper of you to bow before your new master. I'll have use for you yet." One boot kick later, Mace lay sprawled unconscious at the foot of the age old tree, the Renegade standing over him, a faint grin spreading across the barely seen face underneath the hood.

"One down, a few more to go."


	14. Chapter 14: The Fallen

**Chapter 14: The Fallen**

Aletheia stalked down the corridor. After she'd been thrown out of Kuno's quarters by a none too gentle force push, the bruises of which slowly began to show on her skin, she'd gone back to her quarters, only to find that her padawan had disregarded her rules and gone to meet her friends. The healers had laughed at her so called imagined complaints of internal wounds. And she knew, that the only ones at fault were Kuno and that upstart Mace. Things would not have gone so badly if they'd not meddled. Yoda she would deal with later. But for now, she would begin with Mace.

She could feel him walking towards the meditation gardens; his aura unguarded. How easy it was to find him, amongst all the Jedi of the Temple. How easy it was to track him. As if he wanted to be found by her. If such was his wish, then she wouldn't deny it. After all, she was far more powerful than he.

Taking the next turn, she headed towards where she knew Mace to be. No one else seemed to be heading towards the gardens. If she hadn't known better, she would have said that they were all fleeing. Had that Knight finally gone mad? Was he wreaking havoc on some innocent Jedi initiates? If so, then he would pay. She could feel pain coming from the garden. He truly was hurting someone. She just hoped that she wouldn't come too late. It would be her fault otherwise, to have allowed one such as him to be knighted, even though she knew about that dark part of his mind. Too often had she eavesdropped on him and Kalé. It must be his fault that her old padawan was a broken minded simpleton now. Too far gone to be helped.

Finally, she reached the garden. Mace was near Yoda's Tree, on his knees. The crimson stain of his own blood slowly spreading across his shoulder where he'd been hit. Aletheia stopped dead in her tracks. He wasn't the cause but the source of the pain? Why? Frozen as she was in her movement, she failed to see the two Jedi Masters laying on the ground where they'd fallen. And far too late did she see the Renegade approach her. Only as the faint blue blade cut through her midrift, and the saber she herself had be holding listlessly in her hand clattered to the ground and came to rest near Kuno's still form, did she finally realize that she herself might have been wrong all along.

The eyes which watched her from beneath the hood of the robe, so much like Kalé's, chilled her to the core. Kalé hadn't failed. She never had a chance.

"oooo how nice. Another slave for me." At the sound of his voice, Aletheia slowly crumbled to her knees. She had met him before. She had listened to his advice. She had sent Kalé to the desert upon his recommendation. She had been blind. Could it all have been her fault?

Aletheia ceased breathing before her body fully connected to the ground.


	15. Chapter 15: When Angels Stumble and Fall

**Chapter 15: When Angels Stumble and Fall**

She felt frozen. Her bones brittle as wood in ice's grip. Is this what death feels like? She'd once thought she knew. On Lethes. But there, it had only been the agony of the body making her believe this. This red fire of pain which coursed along the veins as a river after the snow melts on Alderaan. Here it wasn't a river. Or if it was, then it was from some force forsaken ice world, where even the breath froze in the lungs. So this truly had to be death. Death of the spirit. They would be disappointed that she'd give up so soon.

In her mind's eye, she could picture the vacant look in Mace's face, as he lay beneath the shadow of Yoda's tree, still somewhat angry that she hadn't saved him. And not far from there, there was Kuno, that new master she hadn't wanted, but somehow, he'd gotten past her defenses, through the shield she's put around her mind. What was the look in his blind eyes? Pain? Fear? Worry? Or maybe, disappointment that she hadn't believed in him? In his ability to save her and keep her from falling into that hole she'd dug for herself? Yoda she saw in the Council chamber. His gimmer stick for once still, unable to lift itself up by its own devices and smack some hapless shins. It was all her fault. She had failed them. This she knew. He had won.

The chains bit into her writs as she sat against the cold duracrete wall, her tears slowly drying on her face as she realized that what she saw was not only the terrors her own mind conjured up, but also the silent cry of the Force, telling her that she had failed. From a mortal, she could have born the look of disappointment. But from an ethereal, eternal, immortal force? Because why else would it show her those pictures of what was, and not as before of what might be. Why would it rub it into her already savaged mind?

_"You didn't fail."_ The voiced seemed oddly out of place in her self pity. A voice she knew well. A voice she'd come to respect.

"But I did, Master. I did." She lowered her head as if he were standing before her, and she could not bear to look into her face.

_"Master? No. I never was your master. It wasn't what you needed. A master can judge, over success or failure, but not what I was."_ A hint of amusement seemed to float in his voice. Kalé looked up, as if truly expecting him to stand before her, his scared face reminding her that others had fought and lost, and still somehow picked up their lives and moved on. Why couldn't she? Fear filled her eyes as she truly saw him standing there. Not him, but a shimmering version of him. The amusement plainly visible in his eyes.

"How?" Her voice cracked on the word. If he were there, then he was dead. Her head dropped again. She had failed.

_"My body may be damaged. But my mind still lingers. Kalé..."_ He waited until she finally looked up to him again. _"I know why you can stand up to him. Why he cannot truly harm you." _She just stared at him.

_"Even the Sith had a concept of loyalty, of blood bonds, which they imbued the most dreadful of their weapons with. And the Renegade does not understand. But you do. You did understand. Didn't you? Frustrating his plan of completely controlling you? You can do it again. Only you can stop him."_ Kalé shook her head and pulled her knees close to her chest, resiting her head on top of them, her hands still bound behind her.

She was dreaming, her mind told her. Dreaming of something which was not.


	16. Chapter 16: The Truth

**Chapter 16: The Truth**

The Renegade sat in the Council Chamber, in the chair the green troll had previously occupied, before he landed in the corner of the room, a heap of limbs and robes. Several other foolish Jedi had attempted rushing him, believing that superior numbers would manage to defeat him. Though they were not far from wrong, they were still wrong. With the Sith weapon in his hands, he was as close to immortal as he'd ever been. His former master had been wrong. It was more than enough to have a powerful weapon to be undefeatable. The rest of the universe would soon find out this pertinent little fact about life.

He grinned. Today the Jedi Temple, tomorrow Coruscant. And by the end of the month... the galaxy. He hadn't thought it would be quite that easy.

"Why?" He looked up startled. He hadn't heard the door open. Seeing figure standing in the large door, holding frame for support, he relaxed back into his newly acquired chair. So she had somehow escaped his worthless minion.

"I do hope you didn't damage him too badly. I'll want to torture him to death for having let you escape." With one hand he waved his weapon, and indicated that she should take a seat. Preferable on her knees in front of him. She just raised an eyebrow and remained where she was.

"Why?" Kalé again asked.

"Why what my dear?" His grin caused her to sigh and lower her head onto the door frame. She let her eyes close. Skills she had long thought forgotten resurfaced in her mind. Pulling up the hated memory of Lethes, she let her mind mull over them. Once she had been strong in projecting images into the minds of others, and letting them think they were their own. A very unJedi like skill, but useful nonetheless. Releasing her tenuous grip on her body, causing it to sag and then fully collapse against the door, she focused on the images which came faster and faster into her head. Images of sand and blood. Of the faces of children, disfigured by a Jedi's weapon, twisted for purposes not its own. Of her horrified screeches as he forced her, again and again, to swing the blade at the helpless children – herself helpless to fight the compulsion her mind felt.

Maybe it was for the best that her own body failed her today. Without it, he could not control her. Her mind had always been her own, locked up behind walls of Force and belief. But her body, treacherous and weak, obeyed him. The truth was...

The truth? The word suddenly haunted her mind, causing the other images to stop. A gasp echoed from the Renegade's mouth as his mind was finally freed from her grasp. Freed not into being its own entity again, but into the vacuum which the word had created. The truth. A simple word, for what should have been a simple concept. Truth was what truly happened. But if a being was retelling an event, how can its own mind know that it was truth, and not a fiction fashioned to seem as truth which it had seen.

The truth. Her mother had brought her here, to save her. Not from the sands. Not from the duties of a clan mother. Not from the encroaching city dwellers. But from her own sire. Deep down in her mind, a memory slowly kindled to life...

_"Kalé!" A woman leaned over her, the face hidden by a cloak, only the bracleted hand shaking her awake gave away the identity. "Kalé, you must wake up. We have to leave." Blinking up at her mother, the young Kalé just reached her hands up to the figure she loved so much, and allowed herself to be picked up. _

_Days passed in the little girl's mind. Days spent crossing the waste desert, up to the city, and into a land she had never seen before. Days spent huddled in a dark corner of a cargo ship, illicit passengers on an illicit journey. Days passed wandering on a planet covered with but one city. And always, in the memory, her mother glanced back, as if fearing to find a man standing behind her. A man who thought no longer of the love he'd once held for mother and daughter. _

_Then they reached a door. A door of a building seeming to stand alone, unsupported by the countless other buildings rising tall everywhere else. A being, almost shorter than Kalé herself, greeted them, and smiled at her with huge yellow eyes. Her mother's voice, such a faint memory, floated down to her and the strange green being._

_"She must be safe here. He will not stop looking for her if he knows she still lives."_

_"Block the memories, we can. Give her a true childhood. And protect her." Her mother nodded, reached down to give Kalé a quick hug, and left. _

Pulled back to the present, Kalé opened her eyes again, and stared at the man struggling to stand from Yoda's seat. Eyes, very much like her own, glowed with anger. She felt but sadness.

"You're my brother. Why?" He continued to struggle with his body, attempting to fight the grip she had on his mind. A grip by far stronger than the tenuous grip she had on her own body, and on her will to live.

The door, which sometime during the confrontation had fallen shut, giving her a stronger support to lean against than her own body was, opened again. Still sitting, she tumbled backwards, and closed her eyes. She did not want to see how yet another of her beloved Jedi fell to her brother's schemes. She fled into memory.


	17. Chapter 17: Helpful Helpers

**Chapter 17: Helpful Helpers**

Manfred looked down at the girl at his feet. His boss would kill him for having let her get away. Though he still didn't quite know how she'd done it. One moment she'd been curled up into a little whimpering ball, talking to herself, and the next she was gone, as if she'd been a ghost and walked through the walls. All he'd done was turn his back on her for five minutes while he watched the finals of the podrace.

He stepped over her body, and looked around the Jedi Council Chamber. As a little boy he'd always dreamed of becoming a Jedi. But he didn't have the talent for it, they told him. So he'd done the next best thing. He became a servant to one who had the talent. And it brought him here, to the very heart of the Jedi's power. They wouldn't have turned him away had they known he would bring it that far. With a smile, he stepped further into the room. Trying to figure out which seat he would like for himself. Only belatedly, he realized that his master was sprawled on one of the chairs, seeming to struggle with something which he, Manfred, could not see.

"Master!" He rushed to his side, and tried to grasp at the air, maybe it was invisible. But he could feel nothing. It was as if something were directly inside his master's mind, and he could neither see nor reach.

While he struggled, the Renegade gasped and wheezed. Strangled sounds, occasionally very much like an attempt to speak, escaping him. Manfred leaned closer.

"What is it Master? How can I help?" One of the failing hands grasp him, nearly chocking the breath out of him.

"girl..." Manfred nodded, as if he had understood.

"I'm sorry I let her escape Master. I'm not quite sure how she's done it. I won't let it happen again." The hand grasped harder.

"fool..." Manfred struggled against the near crushing grip. How did the the popular saying go? Mad men had the strength of giants. Or something the like?

"I... already... apologized..." He whimpered out between two breathes.

"No... Kill..." Finally Manfred understood. His master needed to learn to express himself better. It would prevent many misunderstandings. He would have to point it out to him when the opportunity presented itself. The hand released him, and he turned to face the girl. When he'd come into the room, he'd be sure that the girl was already dead. She hadn't so much as whimpered as her body fell to the ground, her head hitting the cold stone floor with a rather loud thud. Looking closely at her, as he stood up, he saw that far from dead, she was breathing, a twisted smile of glee on her lips. Pallid yes, and probably unable to move. But the look on her face reminded him of a predator just about ready to strike and go in for the kill.

Realization dawned very slowly in Manfred's head. Could it be that she was the invisible thing fighting his Master? If it was, then he could help. After all, a crippled girl, unable to move and already half dead, was no fitting opponent for one of his strength and wits.

With a half disappointed smile that he would only be killing something already half dead, he stood, squaring his shoulders, and strode over to her. He was somewhat sad that he would be killing her. She'd been nice to him, even if she'd been his prisoner. A small sigh on his lips, he walked the short distance to her side, readying his blaster.


	18. Chapter 18: Of Cowards

**Chapter 18: Of Cowards.**

Somehow, Manfred missed the soft hiss of a side panel slipping open. A left over from older, bloodier days, the side passage offered those within a quick escape should it become necessary. Only few even knew of its existence, and those few could remember of no time it had been used in the past centuries. Not even Yoda, for all of his 800 years, could remember the passage having been used as a means of escape.

Up until this day.

Mephisto had been cowering behind the door since the Renegade had first strode into the Council chamber as if he owned the place. He'd still been cowering behind it when Yoda had fallen. And still he cowered behind it as Kalé fell. Now, through a slight peephole, he watched as the Renegade's henchman approached the fallen. He would kill her. That's what the order had been. But if she died, then the Renegade would be free to kill all the other Jedi. Finally, Mephisto quietly, carefully slid the door open. The man did not even turn as he stumbled over Yoda's gimmer stick, laying forgotten by the passage's mouth. He shook his head as the man, stopped, and cleaned his blaster once more. It seemed as if he were trying to savor an easy kill, as it was the only kind of kill he could truly do without help.

A helpless woman. Crippled. Wounded. Such a coward.

Manfred didn't even feel the bite of the lightsaber as it cut through his throat. His eyes somehow seemed to stay at an even distance from the falling blaster as he watched it tumble to the ground. But his mind soon gave up puzzling at this strange fact. The eyes glanced at the ground vacantly. Shrugging, Mephisto stepped over the cooling corps, and knet down besides Kalé. Though faint, he could feel her heart beat beneath his hand. Would she hold out until he'd fully incapacitated the Renegade? He hoped so.

Some voices had claimed, when he first was called to the Council, that he was unfit for this kind of work. He was not a true Jedi. A coward. Not one fit to lead. They were right, he never denied that. He was a coward. He was not truly walking the path of the Order. But he was not unfit to lead. He was a politician. As such he could understand the reasoning and maneuverings of the Senate. Maybe that had been why he'd been called to the Council in the first place. All his life, he'd somehow managed to live without ever having to make a spur of the moment decision. Even when he'd still been a field agent, working on which ever world he'd been sent to, he'd somehow managed to never have to take a quick, unthought out decision.

Up until this day.

The Renegade still withered in the chair he'd acquired. Seeming to fight an unseen force. But what was he, Mephisto, to do? He could tie him up, take his weapon from him, and wait for the rest of the Jedi to come and take care of him. He could take his weapon and do what any good politician would do, and use it for his own goals. Or he could just kill the man and do what a Jedi should do: help others. He could help Yoda, laying crumbled and helpless on the floor. He could help Kalé, fighting a monster far worse than just a Sith. How many other Jedi had fallen to this sadistic bastard's blade? How many might not recover?

But could the Renegade not help him reach his ultimate goal of a juster galaxy? A galaxy where the fools could not decide what they thought was good, when in fact it was a catastrophe beyond scope? So many things tended to go wrong these days, and no one seemed to know just what. But he could change that. With a weapon like that, he could change it all.

On quite steps he walked up to the Renegade, and pried the weapon from unwilling hands. He was almost tempted to use his light saber to cut it from the man's hand. Lucky him, he gave up and surrendered his prize. The galaxy was his to rule now.


	19. Chapter 19: When Devils Save Angels

**Chapter 19: When Devils save Fallen Angels**

The Renegade watched as the so-called Jedi approached Kalé's crumpled form. Soon he would be free of her grasp, of the images flashing through his mind. Memories of what he'd made her do on Lethes. Images of blood and sand. And worse, moments from their lives, from before she was taken away from the family.

_"Ischuros?" A little voice called from the doorway. Kalé stood there with there with her well worn teddy, trying to peer through the darkness of the desert night._

_"What is it?" His voice was gruff with her. He was nearly ten years older than her, too old to baby a little sister. With a sigh he watched as she shifted on her legs and stared down onto the ground. He couldn't imagine that she would be the next Clan Mother. She couldn't even sleep alone when the moon abandoned the night, leaving the desert in an inky darkness which seemed to seep into every crack and crevice. He sat up in his bed and beaconed for her to come closer. Not having to be told twice, she ran to his bed and crawled under the covers, tucking her head just under his shoulder. _

_"I don't like namoon nights." She said with that petulant tone only a little child could muster. _

_"You'll have to get used to them." He told her sternly, almost too sternly he suddenly thought. She wasn't even four yet, and he was treating her like an adult. Almost tenderly he cradled his arms around her and held her. Just before sleep claimed her, her voice again floated up in the darkness._

_"But can I sleep here tonight?" He smiled up at the darkness, and returned to an uncertain slumber. _

_"Of course you can, Elachista."_

_Elachista._ The word echoed in his mind as he recalled the endearment he used to call her by. Small. She was such a tiny child. He had always taken it upon himself to protect her. How could he have forgotten. She was his baby sister, not a pawn to be played with, used and abused as he had.

_"Remember... your loyalty belongs to the Blood. Without those ties, we are naught."_ His father had told him that. Yet he'd tried to kill her again and again. He'd tortured her. Maimed her.

Before he had fully recovered from the memory of one of the countless namoon nights she had spent curled up next to him, another memory assailed him.

_He ran. The sand burning under his feet. Sometime ago he'd lost his boots. Probably when he was crawling through the olden ship. So now the sand burned. Etching itself into the memory of his skin. In his right hand, he held the object he'd found. The object which was now sending him rushing back home to show his father. It must be precious, as old as it was. He'd accidentally managed to turn it on, creating a beautiful beam of blue light, as pure as the water falling down the Resega falls._

Suddenly he wondered how she could have this memory. It had been the day he'd found that cursed weapon and brought it to his father. The spirit trapped within had slowly started to seep into his sire, to change him, and by the same process, to change him. Not long thereafter his mother had fled with Kalé, brining her away to safety. Returning with the claim that city dwellers had cornered them and killed her. Those made responsible had died by his sire's hand. His daughter avenged by the blood of the hundred massacred. But she'd lived all along. Was that why mother had chosen to kill herself? To leave the tribe without Mother? Or had the sire and he himself pushed her to the edge?

He forced his eyes open and watched as the Jedi reached his sister. She had been immune to the cursed weapon when he'd wielded it. Because she was blood? Would she still be immune when the ghost in the weapon controlled one not of her blood? He realized now, it was the spirit of the weapon which had caused him to act with so much hatred towards one whose mind he could not control. It was that cursed spirit which had tainted him and destroyed his family. Soon he would be the last of the living members of his tribe. That spirit had made sure of it. His Mother had died to protect that new Clan Mother. Not to protect herself.


	20. Chapter 20: Ghosts

**Chapter 20: Ghosts**

Kalé watched half amused as the man who was her brother watched memories his own. His mind lay open to her. He could have no secrets from her now. It seemed that her work was finally done. The Force had wanted her to meet him all along. To put him back onto the path decided for him by that all knowing and all forgiving Force. It was neither good nor bad. It was neither evil nor pure. It just was. It led all of its children on a path chosen for them, if they but let it. That path was just as the Force was: neither evil nor pure. It became was they made of it. Sometimes some stray too far from the path, and the Force had to seek to return the balance, the neutral center from which it ruled. Just as every light had a shadow, so could every shadow be banished by light. That was the eternal circle in which life found itself. Not life and death, but shadow and light. In balance.

She saw these things with such clarity suddenly. As if she'd always known them and only know realized that she did. Sad. That at the end of her far too short life she would realize that which she had always denied. She was not meant to be a clan mother as her mother had been. That path had been taken from her very early on. She was not meant to be a Jedi Knight, as some of her blood had been so very long ago, as the tales she now remembered through her brother told her. She was only meant to bring back balance to her blood. Sad. It was too late for both of them. The weapon with its cursed ghost now rested in another hand. A hand which could control not only her body, but her mind as well, and destroy her. Master Kuno would be proud of her, for finally she reached the clarity by which she could forgive herself for failing the children she had killed with her own willing hand, even if the mind had been unwilling.

Closing her eyes, she let go. No more memories floated through her now numb mind. No more did she watch through the eyes of another things which were and things which had been. No longer did she feel the weight of the failure upon her shoulders. The fight was anothers. One last memory escorted her to the darkness she now so craved. She'd kept it at bay for long enough, every since the namoon nights she'd dreaded so much:

_A troll watched from a stool on her bedside. It had green ears that looked very much as if a kitten had played with them. It was wrinkled and crooked as if a branch had fallen from an old withered tree, grown legs and arms, and walked away from that tree. Its huge yellow eyes were watching her rather intently, as if they could see through her, down to the very floor of the room she was in. _

_It wasn't her room._

_And it was cold._

_How she knew these things, she couldn't tell. But she knew that she was forgetting something very important. Looking around she could see a doorway leading to a bigger room with more beds. Maybe one of these was her bed, and she just couldn't remember. Curiously she turned back to the troll._

_"Did I fall down?" She asked it timidly. It smiled, or she thought it smiled, and hopped down from the chair, stepping closer to the bed._

_"Fall you did. But soon return to the main chamber you can. Know your name you do?" She studied him for a moment, as if realizing that something that he had said was important. But she was only three. She couldn't possibly know what might be important and what not. Wasn't that what the grown ups were for?_

_"Kalé. And am three, almost four now!" she gave him a gap-toothed smile and sat up in her bed. "Can I go play?" through the door left ajar she could just barely see other children playing. Since nothing hurt, she had to be well again and could go play. The troll nodded and watched as she tiptoed from the bed to the door, standing uncertainly at the threshold, as if she couldn't quite remember which of the many children where her friends. _

_But then a little boy, as old as she was she gathered, ran up to her, pulled her through the door and showed her how to play the game they were playing. _


	21. Chapter 21: A Sith Reborn

**Chapter 21: A Sith Reborn**

Ischuros struggled to stand. Mephisto hadn't yet trained the weapon onto Kalé, but already he could feel her hold on his mind ebb. Was she dying? Had he killed the one he'd sworn to protect?

"Stop!" He cried, hoping to gain time. Time to somehow undo the past 20 years. Time to change what was about to happen. All the while knowing he was powerless to change anything.

Mephisto turned and stared at him.

"Ah the pup is coming back to his senses. Did she die already? How disappointing." The voice taunting him did not belong to the Jedi master Mephisto. How could it when it was his own father's voice calling out to him. Or is it only the last voice he remembered coming out of his father's mouth? He couldn't remember so clearly.

He finally struggled to his feet and faced the man/thing which had taken possession of the Jedi Master. How quick it went, he'd only been in possession of the weapon for a mere instant. Had he already been tainted when he had returned to the village with it? He shook his head, now was not the time. He could only kill the man. There was no other way to stop the cursed spirit from killing more. Slowly he pulled his blaster and trained it onto the now advancing Jedi. Time froze as he waited for the moment to strike. Though the blade could pass through another saber unhindered, it could deflect bolts from a blaster. It was a rather ingenious construction. One which should be destroyed. So he waited as very slowly, the Jedi paced closer and closer. Until he was almost within striking distance. Then he stopped.

"You think you can defeat me with this pathetic weapon? So inelegant and crude?" Mephisto asked of Ischuros.

"It will wound your flesh as surely as your blade can kill me." He knew he would have but one shot. One short moment when the blade was cutting through him in which he could fire and kill the man. All his life he'd scoffed at how the women trusted in this mysterious Force. He could feel it, but not trust it. Now for the sake of one whom he had almost killed, he had to trust it. Trust it to know the moment in which to pull the trigger and end the plague.

"Foolish welp." Mephisto tensed his muscles to move again, but Ischuros held up his free hand, begging for a delay.

"Before you strike me down, answer me but one question: Who are you that you could so easily destroy not only my father and me, but my entire tribe?"

"I was once knows as Lord Drakus, until the cursed Jedi made me crash land onto your force forsaken world. I was a Sith, hence address me properly as should be." he snarled at the young man. Startled he watched as Ischuros knelt, laying the blaster by his side, hanging his head.

"At least I will know who to condemn before the Tribunal of the Eternals for my fall and death." Drakus laughed and held his weapon up to swing down. With a gleeful smile and swung down, the slight tensing of the man before him, he put down to a last linger of fear of the death he knew would be coming.

The blade hit Ischuros at the same time as s single blaster bolt flashed and hit Drakus where his heart had been beating moments previously. Ischuros crumpled forward, his slowly dimming eyes watching as the cursed weapon cluttered from dying hands.

Kalé would live. Kalé must live. Such was his last thought.


	22. Chapter 22: Data Lord and Archive Keeper

**Chapter 22: The Data Lord and the Archive Keeper**

Ismene stopped short as she and that Data Lord reached the doorway to the Council Chamber. Kalé lay in the threshold, barely breathing and unconscious. Yoda was sprawled in a corner, as unconscious as Kalé. And in the center of the chamber stood Mephisto with the weapon in his hand, the Renegade facing him with blaster drawn. Neither seemed to have noticed the two new arrivals. The Renegade spoke just as they arrived.

"Before you strike me down, answer me but one question: Who are you that you could so easily destroy not only my father and me, but my entire tribe?" The words made no sense to Ismene. He was the fallen knight, the one who should explain. Why would he demand it of Mephisto? The Jedi Master's answer made her blood freeze in their veins.

"I was once knows as Lord Drakus, until the cursed Jedi made me crash land onto your force forsaken world. I was a Sith, hence address me properly as should be." In fear she took a step backwards, knowing that once the Renegade was dead, she and the pest behind her would be next. Horrified she watched as the man knelt, placing the blaster on the floor, and bowing his head, as if knowing that a fight was futile. Then the Sith brought the blade down on his neck, neatly severing parts, as suddenly the momentum was stopped. A single shot was fired from the discarded blaster. The Renegade had somehow grabbed it again and fired just as the death stroke was being made. Both would die. They watched as blade and blaster both clattered to the ground and the two men sacked together in themselves in tune with the other. The Renegade's head hit the ground before the Sith's, but within moments an eerie silence reigned in the room. Only Kalé and Yoda's ragged breathing filled this silence, both Ismene and Akantha too shocked to speak, let alone breath.

Slowly, after long moments of motionlessness, Akantha carefully stepped forward. As if walking on egg shells he stepped forward to the two motionless figures in the center. For the first time in his life he felt something like courage and bravery, if only to show Ismene that he was not the worthless bird of paradise she seemed to think him to be. Very carefully he kicked the now still blade from Mephisto's side and picked up the blaster. With longing he looked at the blade, but soft steps behind him and a gentler hand on his shoulder made him look back.

"It is for the best if the cursed blade be destroyed." In the hours spent in the Archive they had found the weapon. Akantha's idle rumor had not been so idle. So with a heavy heart that such a priceless artifact should be destroyed, Akantha trained the blaster onto it, and fired one brief shot.

In a sputter of remnant energy and a spray of shrapnel from the casing, the weapon exploded. Soon only a dark mark on the ground and a few shards of casing indicated that there once had been a weapon. Akantha looked away, at Ismene.

"With the weapon gone, will those harmed wake up now?" He asked almost as a small child asking a mother whether the fly he swatted would fly again.

"I hope so." Anxiously she looked first to Kalé and then to the stirring form of Yoda. The green troll was slowly fighting his way back to consciousness. The young Knight stirred not at all. If anything then her breathing was becoming weaker still. Ismene switched on her communicator and called for assistance. Then she knelt down next to the young woman and did what little healing her own powers allowed.


	23. Chapter 23: Rude Awakenings

**Chapter 23: Rude Awakenings**

Kuno watched as his padawan floated in bacta. Several days had gone by and nearly all of the wounded had been restored to something akin to functionality. He himself had been released back to his own quarters this morning. He couldn't bring himself to leave Kalé.

Marena had died in the night, the destruction of the cursed weapon had come too late to help her. She never regained consciousness. But Kalé still struggled.

"How is she?" He turned to find Mace standing leaning against the doorway. Frowning at the young Knight, he turned back to Kalé. Mace should still be in his own bed.

"Struggling." Mace nodded and inched into the room, collapsing into the first seat he came across.

"how long has she been in there?" He asked of Kuno.

"barely longer than you." The gruff Master answered, turning slightly to glower at Mace.

"She'll make it." Mace stated this with so much certainty, that Kuno had no doubt in his mind that he was right. Kalé would make it. She was too damned tough not to. In silence the two men waited, one pacing, the other sitting. Eventually the doctors came and pulled her out of the bacta, her still unconscious body as healed as the bacta could heal it. The rest was up to her mind. Still in silence the two watched as they carefully dried her and placed her onto the narrow bed in the room. Again in silence they waited for the medical crew to leave. Once they were gone, Mace turned to Kuno.

"You still think it's a good idea?" The answering grin made Mace shake his head. If possible Yoda found the only Jedi more deranged than Kalé herself to mentor her.

"You should know better that she won't wake up if not given some incentive to." Suddenly a matching grin spread over Mace's features. Kuno was right.

They stood, or in Mace's case sat, on either side of her, each grasping a hand. Each concentrated on the memory of a girl, each as they remembered her, focusing intently on the walls she created on around her mind. The mind healers would kill them, slowly, painfully, for stripping her of her thick defensive walls. But as long as she had those she would never have reason to wake up, they protected her too well from the world around her. It seemed that a small alarm had gone off in an office somewhere. A Healer came running before long, but only stood off to the side. They were banging and battering away at her walls with too much intensity to stop them now. It would only cause more damage than they themselves where doing.

A sudden "eep" and struggling hands alerted the Healer present that the patient was awakening.

"Stop... am awake... so stop it... please." With grins of cats who had just stolen the cream, both Mace and Kuno let go of her hands, staring at her with grins from ear to ear. The Healer shook his head and walked out. They would never learn it seemed.

"Good to have you back amongst the living." Kuno said warmly, leaning down to gather her into a bear hug. Her slight frame nearly disappeared underneath his large robes. Mace contented himself with grabbing her hand and smiling at her with the tenderness of long time friends.

"You worried me." He said.

"I'm sorry." She smiled softly and stared at the two Jedi surrounding her bed. She had doubted them too long. Doubted herself too long. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

Slowly Yoda limped in, having been called in by the Healer. He glared at Kuno until room was made for him to crawl up onto the chair opposite from Mace. The small green troll had taken much abuse at the hands of the Renegade. The limp would not heal out as quickly as Mace and Kalé's wounds.

"Awake you are I see." He said. Circles lined Kalé's eyes, and she was weak as a new born, but she was awake. "Agree now that to blame you were not?" She smiled and nodded softly.

"I should have listened to you Master Yoda."

"Hrumph"


	24. Chapter 24: Recovering

**Chapter 24: Recovering**

Several days had passed since Kalé had been forcefully awakened. She sat crosslegged on the floor in the middle of the living room of the quarters she shared with her Master. Arrayed around her were the pictures of the children who had died on Lethes. Hand drawn by herself as far as she could remember their faces. Some were only barest sketches, but one or two were lively, detailed filled sketches. Sketches of lives which had been ended far too soon. She doubted she would ever think of these faces without some twinge of guilt, even if now she realized that the fault truly was not her own.

"Still wallowing in guilt?" Mace stood behind her, having let himself into the room. Kalé smiled and without turning stood up reaching for her saber.

"If I say yes, will you agree to beat me up in a sparring match?" Finally she turned with a sheepish grin, holding her saber loosely in her hand. Mace laughed and half bowed indicating she should proceed out of the room. They left, neither having noticed the figure standing in the shadow of a small side passage a few doors further on from the door to Kuno's quarters. A smaller figure with a slight limp.

"Good work you have done." Yoda said, staring at the laughing figures of Kalé and Mace.

"She did the work by herself." Kuno retorted as he slowly moved towards the door vacated but moments ago. Yoda followed and silently the entered. The pages with faces still littered the ground where Kalé had left them forgotten. Kuno leaned down and picked one up, more artfully completed than others. It, unlike the others, showed several figures: an older man with a sever smile and laughing eyes, a woman with an intricate tattoo on her face, a young man attempting to mimic the expression of the older man, and a young child, held in the woman's arms. All had the same liquid brown eyes Kuno had come to appreciate so much in his apprentice. Eyes which could show the whole of the soul, or wall up and become as hard as duracrete.

Yoda settled onto one of the low pillows and waited for Kuno to snap out of his daze, clearing his throat once to speed up the process. With a smile Kuno dropped the artful drawing onto the old Master's knees.

"She told me she'd plundered her brother's memories not long before he'd died." He pointed to the picture Yoda was now holding.

"Remember her I do. Finally understand her fear. Wish I had asked."

"I don't think it makes a difference to her." Yoda nodded and settled the paper onto the low table. He would take it and have it framed for Kalé. Looking over at the other pages he raised an eye brow at Kuno.

"She tried to remember the faces of the children. As many of those as she could. Not enough in her opinion."

"Dangerous this is." Kuno nodded and leaned back in his seat, staring at the plain gray ceiling before speaking.

"She is trying to remember, because she feels that it is the only way she has of asking them for forgiveness."

"Still blame herself does she?" Kuno shook his head at the statement.

"No. Ask their forgiveness for having wept for herself, and not for them."

"Ah. Strange one she will always be."

"Part of the ideal of the Clan Mother she seems to have, regardless that she grew up here, far from the tradition she was to have continued. But it seems to be in her blood." Yoda nodded and stood up. Before he left, he turned once more towards Kuno.

"Expected at the Council she is at 1600." With a cryptic smile he left, limping out slowly – Kalé's drawing held tight in his hand.


	25. Chapter 25: Knighthood

**Chapter 25: Knighthood**

After Yoda left, Kuno headed towards the sparing room Mace and Kalé had claimed as their own. He knew that sometimes she still struggled with the mere fact of living, but seeing the two now, happily sparing and thrusting at one another, then there was no doubt that she would once become a great Knight in her own rights. With friends like her own, there could be no doubt about it. With a sigh he stepped out of the shadows and waited for them to see him. With a startled gasp Kalé half finished a twist and turn, nearly stopping dead in mid air as she caught sight of him, taking a hit full back. Mace followed suit as he noticed that she was standing still, and sheepishly they both bowed to him.

"You're expected in the Council Chamber at 1600 Kalé. You should join her for moral support, Mace." Kuno nodded, turned on his heal and left, not wanting to ruin the surprise with the grin spreading from face to face.

At point 1600 both Kalé and Mace stood before the large door to the Council Chamber and waited for the Jedi on duty to admit them. A slight frown of worry had worked its way onto Kalé's face. Mace just stood besides her and grinned, knowing full well just what was about to happen. Not as official a ceremony as the padawans received who finished and were knighted in the traditional way, but traditional would not do for Kalé.

Finally the door opened and both were admitted. Most of the Council was assembled, as well as Ismene Taliba and Akantha Chloris, and Kuno. The Councilors stood before their chairs, staring somberly towards the door, standing almost as if en guard. Akantha stood next to Ismene to the left of the group, and Kuno waited in the center of the room. His back was to the main door and he seemed not to have noticed the entrance of the two friends.

Uncertain at what to do, Kalé just walked up to her Master and stood to his right, a step behind, as was acceptable for a padawan. She glanced around, still unsure at just what was happening. She knew that Mace had followed her, and now waited one or two paces behind her. Finally her master pivoted on his feet and turned to face her side, not directly glancing at her. Then Yoda walked forward, still leaning rather heavily on his gimmer stick, attempting to hide the limp that wouldn't quite go away. When he reached her, he glared up at her, before sending her to her knees with a single whack of his stick.

Behind her, Mace took to steps closer and drew his light saber, waiting for a sign for Yoda. The little troll was still busy glaring at Kalé, as if waiting to find the words to chide her with. Suddenly he broke out with a grin.

"Told you I did, that Knighted you would be. Not in a ceremony as the others, but in the quite circle of your friends." Startled she looked around only to see every single person in the room with a grin from ear to ear. "Agreed we have with Master Kuno, that not he, but one much closer to you should fulfill the ceremony." she glanced up at her Master, only to find that he had knelt down to be level with her, a tender smile in his eyes. He had not seen himself as her Master she knew, only as one meant to help her find trust again, in herself, in her friends, and in the Force. Impulsively she reached out and hugged him, attempting to hide the tears running down her eyes.

With a nod from Yoda, Mace ignited the saber, and reached down for the braid she always wore apart from the mass of her hair, hanging down over her right shoulder as if a badge of honor. Carefully he cut it, letting it fall into her waiting hands. For a long time she starred at the little piece of hair which had accompanied her since she was twelve. Something she would now no longer see in the mirror each day. Very slowly, she looked up at the faces of all those surrounding her. They had believed in her when she had not. They had staid by her side when she would have abandoned herself. She would not fail them.

Kuno had left her side for a moment, and now returned with something hanging over his arm. As he unfolded it, she saw that it was a new Jedi cloak, much finer than the one she had now. She imagined he had it specially made for her, just like the hand carved wooden box he had gifted her with when first they'd been thrown together by the Force. Gratefully she allowed him to slip of her old outer robe, and place the new one over her shoulders. Again she hugged him, this time not bothering to attempt to hide her tears.

"Thank you." She could say no more, her voice chocked. Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from her Master, a radiant smile blooming over her face. Only then did she notice that Yoda had also brought something. In his hand he held a small package wrapped in brightly colored paper. Kneeling down again, she stared at the package. As he handed her the package he finally spoke again:

"Forget not the lessons learned. A good Jedi, you will be!" Very carefully she undid the wrapping, to find herself staring at the family portrait she had memorized in her brother's mind. A portrait that would haunt and support her. She was clan mother without a clan, but a Jedi with a very large family to cherish and protect, and to be protected by. What she had lost so many years ago, she now found herself surrounded with again.

"May the future hold many more such gifts for me."


	26. Chapter 26: End Note

**Author's Note** First of all, thank you if anyone actually read this far down. It's not a mainstream story, and I didn't really expect that much resonance. I just hope that you enjoyed it a little bit. =)

I've decided to add a little something on the names of some of the characters in the story. I had to take greek for a year and pass a translation exam, and started using my knowledge of morphology to create names. At least it was good for something. =)

**The Meaning of some of the Names**

Akantha: from Greek Ackanthus. Thorn, prickle.

Aletheia: From greek αλητεια; Sincerity, Truth

Chloris: from Greek Chloros. Green

Elachista: From Greek. Small

Ischuros: From Greek. Strength

Ismene: From Greek. Knowledge

Kalé: from greek Kalos; Beautiful  
Kuno: named after a droolingly good looking Swiss singer...

Lethes: genitif of Greek Lethe; forgetfulness (gen: of forgetfulness)

Mephisto: one of the Devils. His Nature is to prevent true love in the world. Short form of Mephistopheles. Possible Etymology: Greek for "He who does does not love the light".

La Resega: An Ice hockey stadium in Lugano (Canton of Ticino in Switzerland).

Taliba: Arabic: Knowledge


End file.
